


All the Little Stars Scattered Across the Sky

by hanekawa



Category: Kamen Rider W | Masked Rider Double
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanekawa/pseuds/hanekawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which one of Shoutarou’s delusions comes true, and he’s not happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Little Stars Scattered Across the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler for Shoutarou’s Delusion Diary vol.11. Also, a bit reference to the final episode.
> 
> Originally posted 2011.03.28 [here.](http://mi-key.livejournal.com/42174.html)

.  
.  
.

“Promise me,” Shoutarou says desperately, “promise me that you won’t do anything to bring me back.”

Once upon a time in the past, Shoutarou used to have delusions.

The thing about delusions is that they’re not—real. They’re not real, and aren’t supposed to be either. If it could be realized, then it’s called ‘dream’, and no longer a delusion. A dream is a cherished desire, an impossible thing that people set as a goal. Try hard enough, and maybe—just maybe—you’d be able to reach it. But delusion is—

But a delusion is a way for someone to deceive themselves; a way for someone to escape the reality they’re in by creating illusionary situations or scenarios, ones that are the contrary to their reality, and therefore—

There’s no way for it to happen.

And. And when he had that delusion about Philip being a data human who doesn’t age—

“But Shoutarou,” Philips says, looking a little puzzled, “there’s no way to bring back the dead; you already know that.”

Yes, but do _*you*_?

“Just— _promise me_.” Shoutarou says, his wrinkled, aging hands grasping Philip’s upper arms urgently.

“I promise.” Philip says. There’s a smile on his lips, on his eyes, on his ever youthful face; there’s a tenderness in the way he looks at Shoutarou, in the way he openly shows his affection, in the way his body radiates sincerity. But—

But Shoutarou knows better, now. It’s been years since Philip learns how to make a poker face, how to lie, how to say one thing only to mean another, how to obey a rule without really obeying it.

It’s been years since Philip learns how to find a loophole.

“ _Philip!_ ”

A hand on Shoutarou’s cheek, caressing him gently. “It’s okay.” Philip says. His other hand flies to the side of Shoutarou’s head, fingers brushing over graying strands of hair. “It’s okay, Shoutarou.” He presses his forehead against Shoutarou’s, his fingers cradling Shoutarou’s face like something precious. “You shouldn’t worry about such thing. After all, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Once, Shoutarou got careless and let himself be beat up so hard by a GaiaMemory user he nearly bled to death. He only found out later from Terui that FangJoker had finished Shoutarou’s job, ‘accidentally’ killing the user in the process.

 _It was in self-defense,_ Terui had said, _So of course we wouldn’t arrest Philip._

But Terui’s face had never looked more grim.

The week Shoutarou was bedridden in the hospital, Philip spent it obsessively researching medical texts, particularly the ones related to injuries caused by a fight. When Shoutarou asked him about it, Philip’s only reply was, “so that a near miss like this wouldn’t happen again.”

“I was too careless the last time. _I_ wouldn’t let it happen again.” Shoutarou said. “So please, just stop this. Are you even sleeping?”

A smile on Philip’s lips. “Just rest easy, Shoutarou.”

Thinking back, it was probably the first time Philip deflected Shoutarou’s question without Shoutarou ever realizing it; the first time of many, many a times.

Shoutarou feels like crying. He puts his hands on top of Philips’, carefully dropping them to his lap instead, where he could see how different they are now: the old, wrinkled skin of his fingers, on top of Philip’s smooth ones. Oh how time flies!

“Shoutarou?” Philip says, a note of worry in his voice.

It was only for a joke; when he created that delusion—about how Akiko would lose her hearing in her old age, about how Philip’s status as a Data Human would make him unable to age, about how Terui would come back as a ghost— _it was only for a joke._ How should he—how should he know that at the time, he had based his delusion off of the conclusion of the observations he unconsciously made on his closest friends?

If he knew—if he knew that it was a prediction, and not a mere delusion, he wouldn’t—

 _Don’t die, Shoutarou._ Akiko had told him once. _Don’t ever die._

 _Ha?_ Shoutarou had replied, _Look, we’re all_ human. _It’s only natural we would die someday._

 _Then make sure,_ Akiko had smiled at him, _that you die_ after _Philip does._

 _What—are you talking about?_

 _Shoutarou, you’re the one who always be by his side--ever since you rescued him that first time. All the people he interacted with are the ones acquainted with you. He came back for *you*. You’ve proved that even with Philip gone, you could still function. But Shoutarou--_ Akiko said in a gentle voice so uncharacteristic of her, _he wouldn’t *know* how to live without you; you took care of him, you clean up after him, and you. And you’re *all* he ever knew, Shoutarou. What do you think he would do once you’re gone for good?_

Shoutarou had laughed it off then, because _what the hell._

It would only be much, _much_ later Akiko’s words finally sink in.

A runaway of knowledge with little to no common sense and limitless possibilities, that is what Philip always has been. What would such a person do once their moral compass is gone?

The Child of Fate.

He who will always remain the same and unchanging, stuck in frozen time while the rest of the world keeps on moving. He who can’t be killed, unless he wishes it himself. He who could do anything he sets his mind into, with nothing to stop him but Shoutarou.

Now Shoutarou is but an elderly man with graying hair and wrinkled skin, while Philips remains looking like he’s barely out of high school—just like how he always looks. When people see them on the streets, they see an old man and his grandson, and none would mistake them for partners—even as Philip keeps calling him ‘partner’.

FangJoker is their default (only) choice now, since Shoutarou’s body is no longer fit for fighting.

Shoutarou’s never been one for planning ahead; he always lives in the moment, grabbing chance when it presents itself. He faces troubles only when troubles come, and never tries to predict it. He’s a man of the present; when he thinks of the future, it’s only in the terms of ‘the day after’ and ‘next week’.

But now his time is nearly up, Shoutarou realizes what it was Terui tried to imply, what it was Akiko tried to warn him about:

Philip has never learned how to let go of his attachments.

“I’m sorry,” Shoutarou tells him, gripping Philip’s hands in his, tightly. “I’m sorry I never showed you how; I’m sorry for being selfish, for always wanting you by my side, and not. And not even—“ _and didn’t even think of how it would affect you in the long run._

“Shoutarou?” Philips says, affecting a frown on his forehead. “Shoutarou, why are you crying?”

It’s not that he’s afraid of death. All this time, he has lived his life as he wishes, and he really has no regret. It’s just. It’s just that he’s—

“I’m really afraid of leaving you alone.” Shoutarou says, looking down, watching as the drops of tears fall on their joined hands. “But I already—“

 _All humans will someday die_ , he had told Akiko.

But Philip is no human, isn’t he? He’s stopped being one a long time ago. Now he’s just a library of data in the form of a human, complete with an emotional capacity—even if that last part needs improvement. He’s fast with facts, but always a little slow when it comes to emotion. And he—

He doesn’t understand what death means. He knows the definition, knows what it entails, but he doesn’t _understand._

And Shoutarou _knows_ this. With his erased memories, all Philip knows of his family—of the Sonozaki family—he reads it in the Planetary Bookshelf, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to develop attachment to them. Even Wakana-hime, the one Philip still adores long after she disappears, is but a fleeting memory compared to his attachment to Shoutarou.

 _Then make sure—that you die_ after _Philip does._

That’s why Akiko told him that. Because—

Because the only way Philip would learn about death is through Shoutarou, and. And maybe he would only realizes it a day, a week, a month after Shoutarou’s gone, but. But there’s no telling what he would do once he fully realizes what it _really_ means. Especially considering Philips’s lack of common sense and all the knowledge he has access to. And Shoutarou—

Shoutarou should have taught it to him any other way but this.

But then again, no matter how long we’re together, there would still be some things we never learn about each other; there would still be some things we forget to mention. So all Shoutarou could do is—

“Promise me you won’t bring me back to life.” Shoutarou says. _Please let me go._

“Shoutarou—“

“I’m sorry.” _I mean it_.

Philip squeezes his hands. Shoutarou blinks. He’s shaking, Shoutarou realizes. A slight tremor running through his spine, although considering his age, it’s hard to decide whether it’s because his body is merely exhausted, or because of the overflowing of feelings he’s experiencing.

And then Philip lets go of his hands and wraps them around him instead, his chin on Shoutarou’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Shoutarou.” Philip says, his voice near a whisper. “I did promise I won’t bring you back, didn’t I.”

Shoutarou closes his eyes. Wraps his arms around Philip in return. Tries to take in the familiar feel of his long time partner—made even more familiar by the fact that Philip’s appearance doesn’t change, while Shoutarou’s own continue to grow and wither.

Philip pulls away, and the smile he gives Shoutarou once their eyes meet is blinding. “Stupid Shoutarou! You should stop worrying and just rest, Shoutarou. If you want me to do something, I’ll do it; just say the word!”

He’s beaming at Shoutarou in that open way he has, the one that makes you unable to do anything but smile back at him.

So Shoutarou does. And then he takes Philip’s right hand in his, just cradling it between his own, remembering the feeling of it. Gently, ever so gently, he brings it closer to his mouth, and presses his lips into the inside of Philip’s wrist.

“All I want,” Shoutarou says, “is for you to start living for you own sake, and be happy.” He lifts his eyes to meet Philip’s, “can you do that? Be happy, for me?”

 _Can you let me go?_

Philip tilts his head to the side. Brings a hand to his chin, letting a finger trace his lower lip—as he always does when he’s thinking.

“Sure.” Philip says. “Don’t bring you back. Live for myself. Be happy.” He gives Shoutarou a slow smile, and then, “I can do that.”

He’s smiling, smiling, smiling, _smiling._

But all Shoutarou could see in Philip’s clear, dark eyes are the thousands loopholes Philip’s already found, the loopholes that would allow him to both obey and disobey Shoutarou’s command at the same time.

 _I can *try*._

Ah.

He really should never have taught him how to lie.  
.  
.  
.

Fin.  


**Author's Note:**

> This thought has been bugging me ever since I watched Shoutarou’s Delusion Diary vol.11, and I just had to write it down :p I mean, that ep was supposed to be a parody, right? Except it unexpectedly turned rather... dark, in my head. I still can't decide whether this was intentional on the part of the show's writers or not, though. But if it was, damn, they are genius.


End file.
